Page 89 of Monster Daddies
One of them, she assumed, would be her escape—when she was ready to try. Which led outside, she didn’t know; they were identical. Ellie needed more information before she was ready to make a run for it anyway. But for the moment, she was alone. That meant she had some time to think and plan.
She sat up, clutching a patchwork quilt against her chest. The kidnapper must have covered her with it when he’d left her. It was an oddly sweet gesture, all things considered.
Kidnapper.
She repeated the word in her head and shuddered. Had someone really grabbed her from the yard? Someone or… something? Maybe, instead of kidnapper, the word she was looking for was monster. She couldn’t stop thinking about those red eyes. They reminded her of something, but she couldn’t think of what.
They couldn’t have been human, but thinking aboutthatcertainly wasn’t going to help with the panic. She pushed it back and forced her focus to the room, grounding herself in the physical things around her.
She was resting on an old sofa. She ran her fingers over the worn fabric, feeling where it had been repaired with some kind of needlework. Embroidery maybe? She’d never learned how to do anything more complicated than stamped cross stitch, and it was definitely more detailed than that.
The room was surprisingly cool, which explained the blanket. There was a faint scent of perfume, which she chalked up to the dried flowers. The vibe was peaceful solitude, rather than murderer’s den. She wanted to trust that—shereallydid.
Ellie swung her legs off the sofa, and that was when she realized her feet were bare. The lack of shoes would be a problem if she was going to escape, but her cheap flip-flops had been left behind when he took her. Of course, if she’d known she was going on an adventure, she would have worn sneakers.
The quilt slipped to the floor, and as she picked it up it occurred to her that she could use pieces of it to wrap her feet. It wouldn’t be as good as shoes, but it might protect them somewhat. She looked for a seam to rip and then frowned as a band logo on one of the squares caught her attention.
She had a T-shirt in the same color, with the exact same logo. It was one of her favorites, but it had gone missing from the yard, like so many others.
Of course it was just a coincidence, or so she thought, until she looked a little closer. There was a bleach spot, in the shape of Florida, just above the band name. She’d been so upset about that spot. “It can’t be…” she whispered, as she pulled the fabric through her hands, looking at the other squares.
The soft pink satin—she had a pair of underwear in just that shade. The stone-gray denim was similar to a lost pair of jeans. There was a piece of spandex that was so worn it had started to pill and had faded to an odd off-white shade, just like her most comfortable bra.
It made no sense. What kind of stalker stole your laundry and turned it into a blanket? She couldn’t even begin to understand the point of it. Though, her level of fearwasslowly dropping. It was hard to take the danger seriously when she thought about him sewing away.
And even though it was probably stupid, she really didn’t want to rip the quilt apart. Those were her favorite things, her memories. Besides… he’d done a really good job on it. The stitches were neat and small. Better than anything she’d ever managed in Home-Ec.
Instead of using it to wrap her feet, she decided to take it with her when she left. It was technically hers after all. But it didn’t solve the problem of how to protect her feet when she made a run for it. She needed a towel, or maybe some ofhisclothes.
Ellie got up slowly, hesitating and all senses on alert. The floor creaked softly as she took a few steps. She froze, sure the sound would alert him that she was awake, and he would come bursting in—but nothing happened. Everything was silent and still except for her heart, which thundered like a drum in her ears.
A quick search of the room turned up nothing she could use on her feet. Not even a dish towel. She was about to give up and try her luck with one of the doors when her eyes settled on the curtains.
There were two windows in the room and they both had curtains, more designed to keep light out than for aesthetics. She moved to the nearest one and tested the fabric. It was thick and heavy, it wouldn’t be quite as good as shoes, but it would help a lot. The problem was getting them down.
She would have just yanked the curtains down if they’d been hung on the cheap aluminum rods she was used to, but the heavy iron poles that held them looked too sturdy for that. If she could get them down at all, it would probably make a lot of noise. The last thing she wanted was to attract her captor now.
After a full minute of waffling over what to do, she decided she’d have to climb up and get them down. Tucked under the table were two backless stools. They weren’t ideal, but they looked sturdy enough.
She carried one over to the wall and climbed up to balance on the seat, but the rod was just out of reach. There was nothing but the curtains to hold onto, and she was afraid to grab them too hard, in case it all came crashing down. She took a deep breath, tried to calm her nerves, and stretched up on her toes.
Everything went wrong in an instant. She felt the stool tipping one way, her body falling the other way, but there was nothing she could do. A panicked scream ripped from her throat as she tumbled headfirst toward the fireplace. A second beforeher head connected with the stone, she was snatched out of the air by strong arms.
“What the hell were you trying to do?” The voice was deep and with her head pressed tightly against his chest, it seemed to resonate right through her.
Between the shock of the fall and terror of being held by her kidnapper, Ellie couldn’t say a word.
He waited a few seconds and then, “Well?” in a stern tone that made it clear he was expecting an answer. His hand, settled against the back of her neck, kept her from looking up to see who was holding her. Maybe that was for the best.
“I—I was just…” She couldn’t tell him the truth, but she didn’t know what else to say, so she blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “I was looking out the window to see where I was.” It was the dumbest excuse, but she couldn’t think of anything better.
He was silent. She could actually feel the confusion radiating from him. “You couldn’t do that from the floor?”
“Oh. I… I guess I didn’t think of that.” Inside she was cringing with embarrassment over such a ridiculous excuse, but maybe if he thought she was an idiot he wouldn’t want to keep her.
More silence, this time it dragged out for longer, before he finally said, “Don’t do it again. You’re lucky I came in when I did and caught you.”
“Thank you.” She couldn’t help feeling a little gratitude, but it vanished when she remembered it was his fault she’d been in the situation to start with. Which also reminded her that her kidnapper was practically snuggling her. “Um, can you put me down please?”
